Limerick
by apathyburger
Summary: This further clarifies my inablility to write anything dirty, or, for that matter, funny. Or outside of the BobbyJohn pairing. From a liverjournal prompt.


"Fuck, fuck, fuck a duck, screw a kangaroo. Sixty-nine a porky pine, orgy at the zoo," John said sing-song, grinning at Bobby. He picked up his history book and chucked it at him. John ducked.

"That's not a limerick, asshole."

"Sure it is; it rhymes, it's got a jaunty beat, it's raunchy as hell." Bobby kicked John, feeling the comforter of John's unmade bed ride up with his heel. "Oh I'm sorry, bawdy. Bawdy as hell is how Professor Xavier explained it, right?"

"Other than the fact you probably got that from the internet or Remy, it's not a limerick."

"Alright, Mr. Drake. Let's here what you have to offer." John pretended to take note on the palm of his hand, forming his fingers into a pencil. Bobby bit his lip and thought for a moment. "The public, Mr. Drake, are waiting."

"OK, how about, Bobby thinks John is an ass. He tries to act cool by being crass-"

"Not that it matters, because after the chatter, Bobby's ready to take it up the ass!"

"What?!" Bobby smiled, as John moved up and straddled his knees. "Fuck you!"

"You wanna?" John pushed the books and binders off the bed, the pencils and pens clattering to the floor. "Sounds more fun than homework." Bobby grinned as John slid up and pushed knees against either side of Bobby's hips. "Once there was a boy named Bobby. Fucking his roommate was his hobby. So he sucked on John's dick and swallowed till he was sick, cause John's cum was as hot as wasabi."

"I think you're a little too into this limerick thing. Besides, bet your meter was off."

"I had the AABBA rhyme scheme and isn't that what matters?" Bobby couldn't help grinning as John paused in between each of the words to slowly move a little closer to him, so when he reached 'matters' his nose was brushing against Bobby's and they were breathing the same air.

"John is obsessed with his hair. He's proud that it's blond you know where. But he'll have to learn, that no matter how hot he burns, Bobby could freeze it all off with one glare." John laughed and Bobby kissed him; they forgot about their homework.

Bobby shifted, pulling out a pencil from where it was embedded within his side and tossed it onto the pile of school supplies, sticking into the comforter. He lay back down on the damp sheets, his legs straddling John's sticky thigh. Lying there for a moment, soaking up the heat of John's skin, he arched up; John tickled his exposed stomach. He shivered when John blew on the underside of his arm, he untied the pillowcase from the headboard, where it had been used as sort of make shift hand cuffs, neither feeling up to digging about for the real thing and already preoccupied with searching through the night table for an unopened condom wrapper. He tossed it on top of the pencil. John held his wrists, kissing the red and bruised underside of each, his lips sticking slightly to the cool skin. "Better than English?"

"What do you think?"

"I think unless we get a lot of laundry together or claim you had a wet dream at four in the afternoon, I'm sleeping in your bed tonight." Bobby smiled and crossed his arms over his stomach to dig his fingers into John's sides briefly; John shuddered softly and licked the back of his neck, tonguing up a few beads of sweat that had crystallized into ice.

"Sounds good."

"You wouldn't do that would you?"

"What?"

"Freeze my balls off. 'Cause that would be some mean, nasty shit Bobby. It's definitely not cool to turn your boyfriend into a Ken doll. Especially when this one has spent the last four months of his precious time fellating your ass."

"It's not like you're not getting anything for your time or troubles."

"There is that small pleasure in knowing that I'm corrupting someone else. The warm tingling feeling and everything, and not just in my dick either."

"Don't hold anything back."

"Didn't before did I?" Bobby smiled again and felt John kiss his shoulder. "C'mon, we should probably get dressed and stuff. Wouldn't want anyone to catch the post-coital shine. Or let anyone know how your hair goes into twenty directions after sex."

"You're the one who makes sure to gel his hair every morning. And, you weren't being fucked into the freaking wall. You are so lucky our room is next to a closet."

"Or, so it's ours now? And not just 'the'? Is it going to be like adopting a puppy or something?" Bobby elbowed John lightly into the ribs and felt his arms tighten around him. He wrapped his hands around John's upper arms, holding on to the embrace. "Bobby likes to moan a lot. No matter how loud, he doesn't stop. One day some one will hear, all of Bobby's groans and swears, as John sucks hard on his cock."

"I don't think 'cock' and 'a lot' can be considered as rhyming."

"You wanna bet?" John shifted out from underneath him and straddled Bobby again. "Give me two minutes and you'll be agreeing with me."

"Yeah?" Bobby smirked.

"And stealing my smirk now! Oh you bastard-"

"I'm not agreeing yet." John tongued the very bottom of his upper lip and not breaking eye contact, slid down, pulling the sheets with him and off Bobby. He twisted his hands into John's hair and waited, his mouth open slightly, ready to moan his lover's name.


End file.
